To Feel
by legheads-lament
Summary: Mad Queen. In which Regina enlists Jefferson to make her feel something other than the crushing nothing she feels from her unwanted role as Queen. Rating is mostly for safety.


Title: To Feel  
Author: Nikayla  
Pairing: Regina/Jefferson, Mad Queen  
Set During: A while after the Doctor flashbacks  
Rating: M for safety  
Author's Notes: I would love really love some feedback on this fic. It's the longest I've ever written, surpassing even the multi chapter that I hit major writer's block on after 3 chapters. It's difficult for me to write this descriptively, which may or may not come as a shock given all I ever write is sex with some angst sprinkled on top every so often. But it really is. I just don't seem to get inspired for anything else apparently :L It's probably easy to tell I don't like writing certain terms as my language will go colorful when it comes time for any normal person to just say them. Any concrit you'd like to give me would be much appreciated :) Lately I've also been writing in 3rd person where I usually do 2nd person and always have but certain fics obviously need both sides to be present in the writing as opposed to me just telling how one is feeling and how they perceive the other. But anyway. This is basically new territory for me all around and I admit I was nervous to post this. But with a friend's encouragement here it is. The first night Mad Queen had the sexytimes. Jefferson is such an ass :L But I hope you enjoy it :)

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_First steps, first kiss, first love. First heartache, first loss, first and last hopes rolled into one. Crown on your head, shackles on your wrists, pain in your heart, no strength in your fists. Fight til there's no fight left. **Feel**._

What is a first, and why is a first, when there must be a last? Because without firsts you'd feel nothing. And yet with lasts you wish you did. Pangs and aches grow more vile over time. Blackening the muscle they took up residence in. First it is grey, and still has the chance to come back from it. But once it is black the chances of it returning to its former pristine glory are incredibly few and painfully far between. For the moment though, what you feel is grey. Sort of stagnant in its misery and grasping at whatever might be able to give it something else. Help it feel something else. Magic helps, but it doesn't erase the feeling of unwanted hands and insistent lips. The only thing that could; you aren't sure you have it in you to commit that betrayal. You should though, because you have been betrayed in every way, by people who claim to care for you. So why not? Why not.

* * *

She sent for him. The hatter. The one who came around and made her feel perhaps marginally more interesting than anyone else did. Or that he was interested at the very least. He'd kissed her a handful of times. The first was purely to shut her vexing mouth when he couldn't listen to it anymore. Another had been in the forest, where it was really she who kissed him, behind Rumple's back because he'd made it known she shouldn't be associating with such a miscreant. But then he had looked at her in such a way that she couldn't stop herself. The others were a collection of instances when he would talk her into a figurative corner and take advantage of her confused and parted lips. And where she would push him away straight after because she couldn't be so unfaithful, even if she despised who she was meant to remain faithful to. The patch of grey stayed light because even with her ever-growing magic she was still pure in every way she could be.

As months went on though it became more and more unbearable. She became aware of her role as queen as that of a mere showpiece to parade around during the day and defile in the night. Where she wanted for everything she would never have. Nothing felt good anymore. Skin touching skin felt stale and rotten, lips even worse. She started to think about the times Jefferson had kissed her, and how she didn't feel the twist of illness in her throat. She began to wonder what it might be like to take it further. And then rebuked herself for daring to think on such indecencies. When the King announced he would be going away, but she wasn't be allowed to join him, that this was a trip for only him and dear Snow she had at first felt like she'd go mad locked up here. Leaving her with the perfect opportunity to run were it not for her mother's perverse magic chaining her to this castle and this man. After the second night alone she slowly realized, his absence left her with another opportunity, a chance for revenge. Revenge she suddenly wanted wholeheartedly. Revenge and maybe, something else.

Jefferson was meant to see her in two days time, to be given payment for something he had obtained for her. Something she might regret having asked for but that was beside the point now. Surely he wouldn't refuse her or her advances were she to suggest that after receiving payment he might do her a different sort of service.

When he arrived in a flurry she couldn't very well say it then so she spun it to pique his interest, if he was still interested. She knew he found her attractive, but after so many spurned advances he might have had enough. But she pressed on anyway. "The King and Snow are away, if you could come to my chambers tonight I have a, matter to discuss with you." He smirked at her still somewhat shaky grasp of Queenhood. How young she truly seemed in her royal costume. She didn't entirely fit the mold of Queen, and he had an understanding that that was because she hadn't even wanted to be in the first place. "_A matter_?" He offered back, the tone calculatedly teasing. He stepped closer, invading her space but she made no move to step away from him. He smirked at her again, but then found the large eyes staring up at him just a little more inviting than he wished. He found himself flustered momentarily, clearing his throat and turning on a heel away from her and throwing the words back over his shoulder. "Very well. I'll see you then."

That was new, he thought as he made his way out of the castle. He was unsure how to read her motivations. There was something new in her eyes that had thrown him. A timid but open acceptance of his change in proximity that as of late had been almost run away from. She really wasn't any fun anymore. But perhaps that was changing.

When the sky was dark and he'd finished with Rumpelstiltskin's errand he made his way back to castle, letting himself in, as he so often did. Her back was turned to him when he entered, and she seemed to be deep in thought with herself as she didn't hear his approaching footsteps. "So," he clapped his hands together when he spoke, startling her slightly but she tried to play it off. "What is this _matter_ you wish to discuss with me?" He enunciated the term again, voice laced with innuendo. Innuendo he surely believed was just that. She faced him straight on, and thought it best to just come out with it. "I asked you here, because I had hoped," she paused, realizing how foolish she was being, the words coming out all wrong. She looked down at the hands clasped in front of her, saw the cruel joke of a ring threaded around her finger and unclasped her hands, the digits splaying out before she moved them behind her back. Shaking her head she tried again, "I asked you here, to," another pause, and his expression was utterly smug. He stepped into her personal space, a hand daring to come up and tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. "_To_?" Again she made no move to back away from him, or push his hand away. Normally she would be sinking away from his brazen hands but now she allowed him to touch her. And if he weren't mistaken, even wanted him to. He tested his theory, letting his fingers linger along her jaw. Her expression remained intact, eyes not falling from his, and he felt no resistance to his unsolicited touch. Her eyes only left his when he let his hand drop back down, her gaze following it as if to ask why he had stopped. "I see", he said, as the pieces lined up and spelled out her clear and rather impure intent. He took another step closer, and then she did react, hands in front of her again and narrowly kept from touching his abdomen. "I don't believe you do," she lied. "Don't I?" His tone dripped with suggestion. She knew he had unraveled it. Her thinly veiled proposition. And just as quickly as she had denied it she wanted to take it back. But she still felt apprehension. If she gave in to her desire what would that make her? Would it be worse than what she already was? A reluctant queen, a shell of her former self. A woman stuck in a thankless, loveless, wretched marriage to a man who on the outside and for his kingdom was the picture of kindness and understanding, but on the inside was blind and indifferent to the pain he caused and exacerbated. And this, this if nothing else would give her something, a semblance of satisfaction for all her efforts and how little anyone noticed or cared to acknowledge them. This would make her feel.

She was the one who moved forward then, erasing the back step she had taken, her fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt lightly. She looked up at him, holding his gaze and entrenched her desire in cement. The words fell out hastily. "Alright. Yes. I want you to-" Before she could even fully voice it, he kissed her. He kissed her and she returned it. Lips kneading against his and a hand drifting up to hold at his face, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. The other hand pulled at the opening of his jacket, taking him with her when she walked backwards toward the bed. Her back met the bed post at the corner and she rose up on her toes to take the kiss deeper, knowing full well what this meant. She was tired of feeling alone. She was tired of having everything she didn't want and nothing she did. She made the decision that she wanted him, and now no one could take that away from her. His hands held at her waist, pulling her lower half even closer to him, telling her without a doubt that he wanted her just as much as she did him. "All you had to do, was ask." He split the sentiment between their connecting lips. Spoke it like a slap and then planted one last hard kiss, swallowing any protest or reply she may have had. He nipped at her jawline before trailing down onto her neck, and made a point of lingering there, leaving her with the marks to prove it. Branding her, she knew, so she couldn't deny that she'd let him. He spun her around suddenly, fingers moving to pull at her zipper. She held on to the post, resting her forehead against it when his lips pressed between her shoulder blades, and she willed her legs to hold her, to not give away how much he affected her. She stood back upright when he moved to push the dress off her arms and down her hips, leaving her in a corset that elicited a whisper of a growl through his teeth. She liked knowing she had as much of an effect on him as he did her. She looked over her shoulder at him, gaining a little certitude from his reaction. His expression was nearly smoldering and she couldn't resist tempting him as he always did her. She leaned back against the post, her arms behind her, and simply waited for him to make a move. He watched the almost innocent action and felt heat pool in his stomach at her allowing him to take this where he wanted.

He had thought many times about what it would be like to sleep with a queen. Stolen kisses aside though he had doubted if she would ever actually allow him the satisfaction. He moved forward and his hands wound around her hips pulling her to him. Her hands came to rest on his biceps but he didn't pull her any closer. Pivoting so he sat on the edge of the bed and she stood in front of him, only then did he make his intent known. Abruptly he brought her the rest of the way to him, lifting her up to straddle his lap, her hands moving to clench in between his shoulders and neck. The action left her with lips parted and chest rising. He placed a single kiss between her breasts, dragging upward onto her chest before his fingers moved from her hips to weave into her hair and bring her lips down to his. It was a bite of a kiss, that stole her breath. Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders and she rocked up a bit, a whimper escaping at how thoroughly he kissed her. When he pulled away he immediately descended onto her neck again, alternating between bites and gentle brushes so she wouldn't know what to expect next. The sounds he brought out of her, one of which was his name pushed out in a throaty exhale, had him grinning into her skin. As his hands slunk down out of her hair they trailed down her back to find the ties that kept her bodice fastened around her. He made quick work of the ribboning there, unlacing eyelet after eyelet until he could pull it off of her completely. He removed his lips from her throat and took her in. She sat with her knees on either side of his thighs, holding onto him like she could float away if she let go. Her hair was still up in some complex up-do save for a few pieces that had dislodged in their travels. Her chest rose and fell with short uneven breaths and he couldn't resist latching onto her waist and sliding his hands upward teasingly slow, to watch the cadence grow even more erratic. Her eyes dropped closed for a moment when his hands traveled farther, skimming the undersides of her breasts. Part of her was almost ashamed of what they were about to do, but the other was so completely taken by Jefferson's want and enjoyment of her and her body, something she couldn't say was the same for her husband. He may have wanted her but he made no attempt to show her that he enjoyed it at all, and even less to see that she did. Jefferson's touches were dominating but still somehow affectionate, sending her senses into overdrive and she only wanted more.

"You're staring", she said almost shyly. Feeling somehow more vulnerable under the scrutiny of his eyes than of the act itself. "Can you blame me?" He nearly growled out, not quite thinking it through. He'd been with plenty of beautiful women so there was no reason for him to be so, enamored of this particular woman's form but he found himself unable to quell the thoughts that rose into his mind. Or any other parts of him that may have rose as his eyes traveled across her skin. It had a golden hue to it, not sickly or pale like others he'd had his eyes all over. She was small but not weak or frail, and not only because of the magic he knew she had grown to possess. He felt the muscles in her waist as his hands gripped onto her, and in her legs when they drew tighter around him in some sort of futile attempt at closing them. He was making her nervous, and he had to admit he enjoyed that fact.

He looked at her like he could see through her. Or wanted to. She'd never experienced this feeling before. She'd been told she was beautiful, but she'd never actually felt someone's eyes bore into her for how much they thought so. Cautiously her hands moved from his shoulders, playing at his scarf until it merely hung undone around his neck. She started on the buttons of his shirt and he sat with his eyes fixed on her, reading her expressions and the hesitation that painted her features. The hesitation she was clearly fighting past with all she had. When he caught her eyes the weight behind his stare was substantial. It felt heavy and like the look alone was bringing her closer to him. When she finished with the buttons her hands slid against his bare chest, taking in the expanse of skin and the heat that came off of it. She pushed the fabric up and over his shoulders, and then guided it down his arms, catching his eyes again. While he enjoyed being the one to steer each action, he found himself caught up in her tentative and delicate movements. And how even for her hesitation, it had yet to actually halt her actions at all. When his shirt, jacket, and scarf had found their way to a pile on the floor to join her clothes, her eyes searched between his. Whether she was silently asking him what next or ascertaining if he still shared her intentions, he wasn't sure. She dragged part of her bottom lip through her teeth, and the action seemed to represent a decision being made. She pressed her lips to his and drew her hands around to the back of his neck. She broke away and then returned for another kiss, her breathing shallow in between. His hands moved to hold at her back just under her shoulder blades, fingers flexing into her skin. She pushed forward, urging him onto his back, her chest pressing down into his with every breath.

His hands trailed up and found hers, unwinding them from his neck. She pulled away to question him, but before she could he brought her right hand up to his face, lips parting just slightly to take in a knuckle. The gesture so intimate it had her breath stalled in her lungs. He rolled over suddenly, floating above her, and her eyes were still quizzical from the intimacy he'd just expressed. But then his features turned sly again, and he stole another kiss, his tongue sliding against hers and causing a moan to draw out of her throat. He left a three kiss trail down her chest and abdomen, before standing up to remove his belt and trousers. He leaned forward, fingers latching on to her remaining lingerie, which he drug slowly down her legs. Then kneeling on either side of her, his hands moved under her back to lift her up and further onto the bed.

This was a picture if he'd ever seen one. A waiting and willing queen laid out across her royal sheets, with a face that spoke of how little she had seen of the world, and eyes that said she had already seen too much. For some strange reason he nearly asked her if she was sure. But her actions had shown him she was, so there was no need for pleasantries resembling that of someone who actually cared for her. She'd set the course in motion and he was merely reaping the benefits. He did however test her commitment; a hand dropping down between her legs causing her back to arch and her head to push back into the bedding, with her hands curling into the sheets beside her. For all of the commentary that came to mind she couldn't seem to focus on any one thought long enough to actually vocalize it. She felt him hover just above her, craned her neck back down and found his eyes to be shinier than usual. A new motivation behind them that she'd never noticed before. When he finally pushed into her she couldn't hold his gaze any longer, head falling back and then forward again but with her eyes snapped shut and a lip brought between her teeth. He moved slow at first, and when she had acclimated to his rhythm she opened her eyes. He stared down at her and he was more beautiful than she'd ever thought before. Magnificent even. Riveting shoulder muscles took up much of her view from his arms on either side of hers, holding himself just far enough away. Almost by nature her hands let go of the sheets and wound under his arms and around his back, silently coaxing him closer to her. Her lips parted and took him in a notably more passionate kiss. Hesitation no longer coloring her so heavily. When his pace quickened the kiss grew aimless, and little moans and noises found their way out of her. She broke away when she could no longer contain them, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and drawing her arms tighter around him, lifting herself up just off the sheets. Her head dropped back again, and his lips found her jugular, felt it pulse and vibrate, the cadence nearly a mirror of his own. She found the will to connect their lips again, giving a kiss that dizzied his mind and distracted his motions, and when his pace slowed again from all focus suddenly shifting to what her lips and heated tongue were doing to his she took the opportunity to flip them over, winding up on top before pulling away and finding his eyes had dropped closed. Feeling satisfied with her effect on him a short laugh escaped her, and she then lowered her lips to repeat the experience.

His hands held at her waist, brushing up and down, caressing the skin of her back with his fingers. She began a rhythm of her own, pulled away from him and sat up with her hands pressed into his chest and her back arching forward slightly. His hands slid to grasp her hips, pulling her down and himself up to meet her every so often to throw her pace off course. Her fingers would clench into his pec muscles each time, nails digging into his flesh, trying to keep it together. A hand clapped against her stomach and scaled upward. He felt the deviation under her ribs, and moved higher between her breasts, stopping when his hand was splayed across her chest, thumb brushing her collarbone and fingers skimming the side of her neck. Her hands had since moved from his chest to rest at her thighs before moving up to remove the pin holding the bottom half of her hair. It tumbled down her back but the front remained up and out of her face. His hand hooked around to the back of her neck and brought her down to him, sending curls falling forward over her shoulders. He kissed her and used the time to mimic her previous action, rolling them so he was on top again. "Don't you have any of your own tricks? You have to use mine?" She managed to get out, her tone as condescending as she could make it. With him above her again the thrusts became quicker and stronger and she couldn't help the whimpers and sighs that were released against her wishes. "Oh I have plenty of tricks." He countered, in that overly confident manner he always seemed to have on hand. Even when he found himself to be growing rather breathless as well. She meant to have a witty retort but once again the words were a jumble, unable to form a straight line to leave her lips in any sort of orderly fashion. Instead the words that came together were less retort and more lust-driven request. "Then show me."

He smiled down at her, with that cocky grin, and wound an arm under her back to lift her torso up, the change in her body's angle causing a wonderful shudder to be drawn out of her. His rhythm slowed and became more fluid, almost lulling her into ecstasy. He certainly lived up to his reputation, she had to give him that. Each movement sent her further toward the inevitable cliff, had her teetering on the edge more and more and she didn't know how much longer she could take being so close but not yet thrown over. He seemed to sense she was nearing the peak of her stamina, withdrawing his arm to let her back lay flush against the bed again. With the last bits of energy he'd held onto he quickened the repetitive connection steadily, and captured her mouth to quiet her impassioned screams. Her nails dug into his back the closer he brought her, and he felt himself very near the end of what he could withstand as well. He dropped a hand down between them to hurry her along and that seemed to be the last bit of contact she could handle. With her arm wound around his neck she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, strangled noises leaving her lips and melting into his skin. The sensation was enough to send him over as well, and leave them both in a buzzing heap, trying to come down and regain motor function.

Her mind was a cruel place. Flashing to when Leopold would collapse on top of her and all she wanted was him done and off of her. Her hands moved to push in front of Jefferson's shoulders to urge him over, and he followed the motion and rolled onto his back beside her. They both laid with labored breath and stared up at the ceiling, with no words to speak. What this meant, neither really knew. Whether it was a one time desperate romp, and she suspected that was all he wanted; to bed a queen and be done with it, or the start of something she wouldn't be able to stop. She hadn't felt such escapism since she'd been forced into this fortified cage and were she given the chance, she would repeat this night's events any time he might oblige her. He made her feel something and nothing at the same time. Something physically other than hate and disgust where all she wanted was to drown in a bath after for there was no length of time that would truly wash the memory off her skin. And nothing for anyone but herself and him, no one else invading her once he had. The feeling was almost akin to what it felt like to wield magic. Like you could obliterate anything with a wave of your hand if that was the intent you held behind it. Or maybe it was that she felt like she could be obliterated by it. Broken apart and resewn, but ending up with haywire cross-stitching so you had to try again. She sat up and moved so her back rested at the headboard, pulling her knees up and watching him. He didn't move yet, merely turned his head when she moved away from him and he hated how young she looked then. Whether she would welcome him into her bed again he didn't know, and he didn't care if he didn't know. If it happened he would have attained the unattainable twice, outdoing even himself. He sat up without speaking to her, dressed himself while she sat and tried to read through his sudden aloofness. Didn't it feel as good for him as it had for her?

Adjusting his scarf just so he then reached down amongst the clothes still abandoned on the floor and lifted the lacy undergarments he'd stripped off her legs. "What are you doing?" Her tone turned incredulous immediately. "You're taking my-" "A token, to remember you by." He stuffed the item in his pocket and raised an eyebrow at her, his lips turning up in a smug grin. He could turn it on and off far too easily. He leaned over the edge of the bed where she sat, a hot puff of breath meeting her skin from the proximity. "Although I'm sure I won't need it to remember you." He pressed a hard but regrettably welcome kiss to her lips. He aimed to leave her still reeling and it would seem he was getting his way. Her eyes had closed at the connection and when he pulled away they stayed closed for a few beats. When they did open they found his gaze to still be terribly effective. She turned her head away from him slightly, looking down at the stand beside her bed.

"May I?" He gestured to the expanse of empty floor the room had. "As if me saying no would stop you?" She offered back. And he smiled at the banter returning to form. "Well, thank you for a, lovely evening your majesty." He said before tossing the hat down in a twirling motion, and as the cloud grew thick, "Until next time." Before she could offer any sort of reply, he was gone.


End file.
